Our move to Portugal has often been described as fulfilment of a long-held dream. In some respects that is a fair description, but we learned quickly that the move would be much more complex and there was no certainty that it would end well. Luckily, it has turned out quite well so far, but of course a seizure or other setback is always potentially around the next corner, so all dreams have to be considered somewhat provisional.
Dream-like thoughts go right back to when I bought the villa in Portugal with my ex-wife nearly twenty years ago. Certain repeating experiences felt like fulfilled dreams from the start, which helps explain how Portugal has always had an over-exalted place in my heart. I have always associated the arrivals area in Faro airport with a particular smell, and that odour still puts me in a good mood, without even needing to enter any airport building to experience. The villa itself evokes positive feelings, especially after the recent upgrades. There has always been a tradition of standing on the roof terrace with a glass of something bubbly to observe the lovely view, especially around sunset. Then, over time, our stable of favourite restaurants has steadily grown, each one somehow with its own place in my heart and dreams.
Of course reality always challenges the naivety of our dreams. We can think of our lives as living out our dreams, and that is probably a healthy attitude to take, but real life causes us to adjust again and again. Stuck in my dreams, I constantly underestimated the degree of difficult adjustment imposed on my wife daily, an adjustment that can never be fully completed.
Then again, our time here in Portugal so far has turned out very well. There have been ambushes to evade everywhere, and every likelihood of major setbacks, with health or otherwise.
Thins have gone so well that at times it really does seem like we are living out our dreams. Only considering the month of June, examples are manifold.
We started the month with one more singing holiday, this one with the familiar surrounding of the Italian Adriatic coast. Every time I do a singing course nowadays I have some fear, with the travel to add to the everyday health risks. Although it was tough week musically, it turned out very well overall, with my wife able to hop on a train for a couple of days in Florence as a great bonus.
The week after travelling also worked out very well. The local choir that had performed the Mozart Requiem in April offered up an encore show. It was a bit of a strange project, and at one point I feared that our a capella Ave Verum might be among the most embarrassing of my life, but, as tends to happen, improvements in late rehearsals and performance helped a lot. I remember Ave Verum Mozart performed in Church as maybe my first “You can take me now, Lord” moment soon after diagnosis. Each time I have a feeling like that it feels almost dreamlike. The new church community that we are testing out offers potential promise of many such moments.
The week of the concert offered up another huge bonus, coinciding with a visit of our daughter from the Netherlands together with her boyfriend, introducing him to us for the first time. We hope there will be many subsequent opportunities to meet him, as the visit went very well indeed. What more joyful dream-like experience can there be for a (step-Dad) than a meeting like that?
As the month continued, a legion of visitors, mainly cousins of my wife, spent some days with us. We had twelve sleeping at the villa and four more at a neighbour’s place. All six of the kids turned out to be great company, and the whole week seemed to be filled with recurring dreams coming true. How splendid it was to observe six kids frolicking in our pool? What about the adults sitting on the terrace chatting and reminiscing late into the night? Visits with our large party to beaches and familiar restaurants? Maybe best of all, we were able to revive a treasured tradition, that of sharing a toast of something bubbly while enjoying the sunset from our rooftop.
After the visitors all departed, we have been able to resume more of our habitual routine. As the weather has become warmer, we try to take our morning walks by the seaside earlier in the morning, before the heat becomes too oppressive. These walks, often with a coffee at the end, are one more dream reignited. I am so lucky to be able to continue this tradition, so far at least.
So June has been a bit of a dream month for us, much as the previous two Junes turned out. We can also remind ourselves that it does not require a large cast and complicated props to experience a dream coming true. What can beat a good morning cuddle? Not a perfect morning coffee, but it can come close, as can twenty minutes sitting outside in the warm morning sun.
June has turned out to be the true zenith of each of the past four years. Each time, things went somewhat downhill later in the summer and into the autumn, starting in 2022 with its strange summer vision symptoms culminating in the cancer diagnosis. Perhaps this summer and autumn will turn out similarly, or maybe we can avoid some of those seasonal setbacks this year.
One key, as always, is to try to lead a full life with a positive attitude. Recurring dreams, with their associated joy and tears, have been very therapeutic so far.
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